Through The Storm

The last of the templars

“Let it be recorded for posterity.” A man with a greying beard sat with eleven other men, and one of them had a paper and quill, which he recorded the meeting with. “That on this day of our Lord, March the sixth, 1254 A.D., we have decided to open the parcel found in the grave of the Grand Master Hugh De Payens, in our desperate attempts to find a way to vanquish the monsters who had taken over our world.”

“Let me see what you wrote to this point, Girard.” The man who was dictating to Girard passed his eyes quickly over the words and returned the paper to him.

“Record this, please.” He opened the parcel tightly wrapped in leather and bound by copper wire with some difficulty. “On opening the parcel, we found a bound book.”

He passed the book to the man to his right.

“And six small hourglasses.”

He turned one of the hourglasses over and over, and faint green throbbing liquid could be seen inside, then he said, “The hourglasses are made from a strange material, warm to the touch, that resembles glass, and they don’t have sand inside, instead they have a strange luminous liquid.”

“Did you write everything till now, Girard?” He looked up from inspecting the hourglass.

“Everything, Sir Mortimer,” Girard said.

“Good, now let’s check the book.”

The man who sat to his right gave him back the book unopened.

“Let’s hope Grand Master Hugh De Payens left instructions on how to battle flying lizards.” Sir Mortimer smiled a sad smile and started to search through the pages, then he stopped to read aloud. “On the first of November of the year of our lord, 1135, a man came to me with a bound tome and a small box.” Sir Mortimer turned the page then went back to where he stopped.

“He told me that in a hundred years, an invasion will happen on all the Christian world, indeed, on the whole world, Christian or otherwise.”

Sir Mortimer looked up with wild eyes, then returned to his reading. “He said that people would ascend from earth’s core, bringing with them Wyverns, a type of mythical flying lizard.”

“By the Lord, this was a prophecy come true,” the man sitting next to Sir Mortimer said excitedly.

“It seems so, Sir Paul.” Sir Mortimer returned to reading. “The man who called himself Malachi said that we will have no means of defeating the wyvern or their short riders.”

Gloom descended on the occupants of the room.

“But a way can be devised to prevent their ascent from the inner earth before it happens.” Sir Mortimer sighed. “I wish that we had started excavating the tombs a decade earlier.”

As Sir Mortimer was about to close the book, Sir Paul urged him, “Please read on, if it is indeed a prophecy, then it would provide a means for salvation.”

Sir Mortimer sighed a long sigh, then went back to the book. “Indeed, as Malachi said, the way for the twenty men who will find these words, is by going onto inner earth, and back to a time before the knight of shadows had taken possession of the ultimate Arcanos, I don’t condone of Tarot cards and their usage, but I listened on.”

Sir Mortimer stopped to breathe heavily for a few seconds, then went back to his reading. “These are the points, Malachi, mentioned as entrances, and he said the seals would be broken to allow passage of the wyverns, so, these men would descend with ease.”

Sir Mortimer turned the page, and there was a folded paper, he unfolded it, and it was a map of England where the knights gathered, and one point of entry was south of the Tower of London where they gathered, he passed the map to the men around the table, then resumed his reading.

“The man, Malachi, mentioned an ancient prophecy about colors, a shadow man, and a light man, I included part of it, as I didn’t understand its meaning of yet.”

“There some lines in Latin here, the first line reads ‘The fate of two worlds rests on the shoulders of a few unsuspecting souls’”

“Sir Mortimer, we have to study the rest of the book carefully.” Sir Paul stood and put his hand to his heart. “For I swear to follow it to my death if it stops the massacres, we have to live through each day.”

“Let’s all swear on it.”